It may seem odd at this point to call this book one of moral theology. After all, there has been little discussion so far of God, Jesus Christ, the church, and other central theological topics. Chapter 1 explored whether religious people are more likely to hold a morality of obligation or happiness. Chapter 3 noted the existence of the theological virtues, and even hinted, at the end, that the specific actions constitutive of cardinal virtues may be shaped by religious commitments. There was also some discussion in chapters 7 and 9 of the ways that Christians understand justice and fortitude differently from others. But it is safe to say that so far the majority of this book has not been focused on how people of a particular religious tradition like Christianity live out the virtues. Having completed so much analysis of the cardinal virtues, it may seem as if religious beliefs are irrelevant to how one lives out the cardinal virtues. Leaving that impression on the reader would be a drastic mistake.

The second half of this book seeks to rectify this inattention to the importance of theological beliefs for the moral life. Why wait until now to make this argument? As noted in the introduction, there is a reason for this order of presentation. The cardinal virtues concern innerworldly activities that are engaged by people of whatever religious persuasion. Therefore they can be discussed intelligibly without solely relying on arguments particular to one religious tradition, such as claims made in the Bible. Particularly since its audience includes people of various religious beliefs, this book emphasizes that determining the most virtuous way to, say, wage war or drink alcohol is not simply a matter of sorting through different religious beliefs. One serious error that people can make concerning different positions on moral issues is that they are driven simply by different religious beliefs. (Observe in the newspapers how an anti-abortion stance is described, often derisively, as held by “religious” groups.) Yet as innerworldly activities, these issues entail questions and claims that are accessible to people of any or no religious conviction. When does human life begin? Does the use of lethal force impede the reestablishment of justice, or at times aid it? Which, if any, uses of alcohol are compatible with and even foster human health and good relationships, and which uses impede such human happiness and flourishing? Questions such as these are not simply matters of religious belief. That is why the cardinal virtues are addressed first in this book, with less attention to the impact of religious beliefs on those issues.

That said, another serious error that people can make in determining how to best live out innerworldly activities is to assume that religious convictions do not matter for those activities. The assumption of such people is that there is no important difference in how people of different religious beliefs live out activities such as pursuing sensual pleasures, making practical decisions, having good relations with others, and facing difficulties well. This is not true. A main goal of this second half of the book is to explain not only what Christians believe, but also how it transforms their moral lives. Though living a virtuous life directed toward happiness is not solely dictated by one’s religious beliefs, such beliefs are indeed important for that endeavor. This half of the book attempts to explain how this is so by examining those virtues distinctive to the Christian tradition, namely, the theological virtues of faith (chapter 11), hope (chapter 13) and love, or charity (chapter 15). It will also examine certain crucial features of the Christian story, namely sin (chapter 12), Jesus Christ (chapter 14), and grace (chapter 16). Chapter 16 in many ways represents the climax of this book, since its treatment of grace ends with an argument explaining how the discussion of the cardinal virtues in the first half of this book needs to be reexamined and augmented with the claims of the next six chapters in mind. Two particular issues are then examined to see how the claims of this half of the book play out: sex (chapter 17) and euthanasia (chapter 18).

The purpose of this chapter is to prepare for the second half of the book by explaining why and how it is that different religious belief commitments matter in living morally. What difference do religious beliefs make in how I live out innerworldly activities that are accessible to and engaged in by people of any or no religious belief? Though this question will only fully be answered after chapter 16, this chapter makes two important contributions toward that answer. The first section offers an example of how the theological beliefs of two very different schools of thought play out in different moral rules for a particular innerworldly activity, namely, sex. Since one of the views portrayed is Christianity, this section also offers a basic portrait of the Christian story to the reader. The second section then offers a more precise argument about why and how religious beliefs do indeed matter for how we do innerworldly activities.

One of main claims of this book is that living in accordance with reason—in other words living virtuously—requires a truthful grasp of the way things are around us. This is why the virtue of prudence is so important. To refer to an example from chapter 7, waging war justly requires an accurate judgment about whether or not a true injustice has been committed, or, in other words, whether or not there is indeed just cause. As discussed in chapter 8, it also requires an assessment of whether the methods used in warfare will indeed enable a nation to reestablish justice (ius), or whether those methods actually impede the reestablishment of right relations. In both cases, seeing rightly enables us to act rightly. So it is no surprise to claim that an accurate grasp of the way things are matters in determining how to live virtuously.

But prudence enables us to see rightly as it concerns the dynamics of innerworldly activities. In living out the cardinal virtues, what, if any, difference does it make to see rightly as it concerns what are casually called here “big picture,” or ultimate questions. Is there a God? If so what is God like? Is Jesus Christ the Son of God? What happens after death? These questions are less obviously related to living out innerworldly activities. Does what you think is true regarding such questions matter for how you live morally? This section attempts to show how one’s beliefs on these big-picture questions matter by offering two strikingly different answers to them, and explaining how these different big-picture views lead their adherents to different rules on how to live out one particular innerworldly activity, namely, having sex. In the course of this section, one of these views—Christianity—will be presented in summary fashion, since the perspective of this book is living virtuously in the context of Christian faith.

Lucretius’s Epicurean Beliefs and Their Impact on Virtuous Sex

Lucretius was a Roman thinker in the first century BC who was an adherent of a school of thought known as Epicureanism, named after the Greek thinker Epicurus. In a work entitled On the Order of Things, Lucretius offers a synopsis of his big-picture beliefs, and goes on to discuss sexuality in a manner that makes it clear how those beliefs shape his understanding of how to live a virtuous sex life. It may seem random to choose this text when, presumably, many others could be chosen to make the same point. It is used here both because of my own experience using the text in class, and because of the particularly clear way it demonstrates the connection between his Epicurean beliefs and his rules for virtuous sex.For a helpful excerpt from Lucretius’s whole text, and for the text referred to here, see Lucretius, “On the Order of Things,” in The Good Life, ed. Charles Guignon (Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing, 1999), 42–52.

As an Epicurean, Lucretius was an atomist. Atomism is the view that all of reality can be reduced to material things (atoms). In this it is akin to a common modern approach to such questions called materialism. The basic claim here is that there exists nothing beyond the matter of this life. There is no monotheistic god, in the sense understood by traditions such as Judaism or Christianity, where God creates and transcends the matter of the universe, as opposed to being made up of that matter. Nor is there a human soul, in the sense of something that can be distinguished from, or especially live on without, one’s material body. Nor is there any afterlife for a person, given what happens to the matter of a person’s body after death. Lucretius claims that surely the matter that composes our bodies today was part of some other person long ago. But just as we have no memory of that existence, since the chain of personal identity is broken in the decomposition of matter, so too can we say that we have no personal identity after death. We simply cease to exist.

This is obviously not the place for a thorough overview of Epicurean thought or the work of Lucretius. Yet some basic tenets of this school of thought— some of the big-picture beliefs—are identified here in order to explain how they give rise to a certain view of what it means to live virtuously, or live a good life. Needless to say, in such a system there is no discussion of living in accordance with God’s guidance. Since there is no providential god, in the manner understood by monotheistic traditions, it would not be “living in accordance with reason” to act as if there were. What, then, should guide how we act? Three observations are offered here about Lucretius’s morality that flow directly from his big-picture beliefs.

First, the entire moral life may be summed up by the injunction “to banish pain and also to spread out many pleasures for ourselves.”Ibid., 43. Since ultimately there is only matter, it makes perfect sense that the best life is “a body free from pain” and a “mind released from worry” so that one can be most free “for the enjoyment of pleasurable sensations.”Ibid. Interestingly enough, this vision of morality (which, reminiscent of claims in chapter 1, is indeed a morality in the descriptive sense of the term) does not lead Lucretius to condone debauchery or to say that one should live however one wants. The way to best achieve a pleasurable state is through tranquility and equanimity. Raucous bouts of pleasure-seeking spoil the tranquil state, which is ultimately more pleasurable. He even dismisses those who concern themselves with seeking money or status, since these concerns also ultimately disturb, more than support, a life of pleasurable sensations. Thus, how Lucretius recommends living out a life of pleasure is far from the “eat, drink, and be merry” stereotype we may have of the Epicurean school of thought.For an enormously helpful overview of different classical (Greek and Roman) schools of ethics, and a more nuanced depiction of the Epicurean school of thought, see Julia Annas, The Morality of Happiness (New York: Oxford University Press, 1999). In fact, some of his rules seem rather close to what, say, Christians would recommend, though for very different reasons. Those differing reasons do, however, at time leads to quite different rules or ways of living.

An example of such a difference is seen in the second observation on Lu-cretius’s ethics. In this school of thought, where the whole universe consists of isolated bits of matter flying spontaneously through space in perpetual motion, it is unsurprising that there is no significant place in Lurcretius’s thought for the common good in any strong sense of the term, understood as interdependent and shared happiness. To the contrary, he claims that it is the

greatest joy of all to possess a quiet sanctuary, stoutly fortified by the teaching of the wise, and to gaze down from that elevation on others wandering aimlessly in search of a way of life, pitting their wits one against the other, disputing for precedence, struggling night and day with unstinted effort to scale the pinnacles of wealth and power. O joyless hearts of men! O minds without vision!Guignon, The Good Life, 43.

To call looking down on the misery of others the “greatest joy” clearly indicates that happiness for Lucretius is not something that is most perfectly shared with others. Though he admits that “not that anyone’s afflictions are in themselves sources of delight,” he does say that they help one “realize from what troubles you yourself are free,” which is “joy indeed.” Reminiscent of Glaucon’s view of justice, here there is no understanding of justice (in the sense of right relations with others) as constitutive of one’s own happiness. And surely that impacts both why and how one lives justly.

Third and finally, Lucretius claims that it is a fear of death that leads people to superstition (such as religious practice) and futile quests for longevity in wealth or status. “Some sacrifice life itself for the sake of statues and a title.”Ibid., 45. But in reality there is nothing to fear in death, not because it is overcome but rather because it is inevitable and final.

Rest assured, therefore, that we have nothing to fear in death. One who no longer is cannot suffer, or differ in any way from one who has never been born, when once this mortal life has been usurped by death the immortal.

Nothingness and death, not life, are final for Lucretius. Since the dead person simply does not exist—much as one did not exist before birth—then there is nothing to fear, since one does not exist to experience pain (or pleasure). This big-picture belief leads to some moral injunctions we could find in Christianity, such as: do not fear death; and, understand pursuits in this life such as wealth and status in the broader perspective that extends beyond this life. But, of course, that broader perspective radically differs from Christianity, since death and nothingness are final for Lucretius. This leads him to have no problem whatsoever with something like taking one’s own life, should one’s life be wracked with pain and leave one no longer able to enjoy pleasures.Ibid., 47.

How do these basic observations of Lucretius’s ethics play out in terms of sexuality? Rather than any extensive examination of Epicurean sexual ethics, a few observations from his text will suffice to illustrate the point of this section. First, sexual desire (which he calls Venus) is a basic and mechanistic human body response to a stimulus. In people this stimulus is the shape of another human body. Surely we would question this rather crude understanding today, particularly with questions about the origin of sexual orientation, and the ways attractiveness is shaped by societal convention. But more related to our purposes is the claim here that sexual desire is not inherently related to any human friendship or relationship. In fact, the only reason Venus is directed toward any particular person, according to Lucretius, is that it is appropriate for a response to be elicited toward the stimulus that provoked it.Ibid., 49.

As for the relationship between sexual desire and romantic love, Lucretius claims getting involved in any way with the latter is a drastic mistake. Many foolishly let their sexual desire (Venus) lead them to become romantically attached (Eros) to the object of their sexual desire. This is foolish because the passion of romantic love is “storm-tossed,” leading the one in love to “waves of delusion and incertitude.”Ibid., 50. Unlike sexual desire, which can be satisfied and pleasurable, romantic love cannot be satisfied and thus is always a path to unhappiness.

Given this view of sexuality, what rules does Lucretius suggest? First, in order to keep one’s mind free from pain and worry, avoid romantic love at all costs. He even has practical guidance about how to do so, instructing his reader to concentrate on the faults of the beloved rather than his or her attractive attributes! Second, he counsels his audience (surely comprised of men) to “ejaculate the build-up of seed promiscuously and do not hold on to it—by clinging to it you assure yourself the certainty of heartsickness and pain.”Ibid., 49. Since sexual desire can lead one foolishly to romantic love, one is best off discharging that desire “promiscuously” rather than letting it build up. Lest one think that the delights of sex would be lacking something in the absence of romantic love, he claims to the contrary that “this pleasure [sex] is enjoyed in a purer form by the sane than the lovesick,” and that in sex without romantic love “you are reaping the sort of profits that carry with them no penalty.”Ibid., 50.

A more detailed analysis of Epicurean sexual ethics might explore whether what is avoided here is simply overly passionate romantic love, what today we might call an infatuation or obsessiveness. But it suffices for our purposes to note that sexual desire for Lucretius is ultimately about securing pleasure without pain, and no mention is made of it as a human activity intended to bring people together. This is unsurprising given Lucretius’s big-picture beliefs and the ethical approach they engender.

Before turning to the Christian story about the way things are, and the impact of that story on sexuality, it should be noted that the goal of Lucretius’s ethics is indeed happiness, or “greatest joy.” This quest leads to rules, and those rules are clearly shaped by his big-picture beliefs about the way things are, including his understanding of atomism, the ultimate relationship, or lack thereof, between human persons, and the content of human happiness as the “enjoyment of pleasurable sensations.” Lucretius is quite clear that the good life is living in accordance with reason. People who fail to live such a life do not see accurately concerning things, such as the meaning of death.Ibid., 46. They are “minds without vision.” Thus, Lucretius would agree with a central claim of this book that it is in knowing the truth that we are set free. However, his vision of what that truth is differs radically from Christianity, to which we turn now. His different vision of the way things are concerning big-picture questions leads to a different understanding of how to live virtuously in general, including a different understanding of how to do particular innerworldly activities, like sex, virtuously.

The Christian Story of the Way Things Are and Its Impact on Sexuality

Given that this book is an examination of moral theology in the Christian (particularly Catholic) tradition, more attention will be devoted here to that vision of the way things are. Still, the presentation of Christian belief here is embarrassingly brief. Even so, some such presentation is needed, both to support the main claim of this chapter that big-picture beliefs shape moral rules concerning innerworldly practices, and to offer readers of varying backgrounds some basis for the following chapters’ more detailed discussions of aspects of the Christian story.

How to summarize the Christian story? One helpful text for this purpose is the Irish bishops’ pastoral statement entitled “Love is for Life.” It is not only concise and well-written, but like this chapter it also seeks to show how the basic tenets of Christian belief shape how sex is done virtuously. After a brief look at their summary of the Christian story, we will look more closely at the relationship of that story to sexuality by examining the main movements in Christian salvation history.

The point of it all, according to the Irish bishops, can be summed up in one word: love. That word is the basis of the entire Christian story. More precisely, we could say that self-giving interpersonal communion is the point of it all. That is what is meant by love here. Love is the best word to describe who God’s very self is. After all, the New Testament says that “God is love” (1 John 4:8). This is also what is meant by the Christian doctrine of the Trinity, a belief that can too often seem abstract and irrelevant for morality. But that is far from the case. Christians believe that God’s very self is a communion of persons—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—three persons united as one. Loving communion is therefore the very fiber of God’s being, and thus the very basis for all reality which originates in God.

Since God’s love is self-giving, God created everything as an expression of self-giving love. “Creation is God’s love made visible to us. It was from love that He made the world. It is out of love that He continues to care for it. It is in love that God looks on all he has made.”Irish Catholic Bishop’s Conference, Love is for Life (Pastoral Letter, 1985), 16. And it is to an ultimate destiny of loving union with God that all persons are invited. Thus love is the origin, the sustenance, and the destiny of creation. It is best exemplified in the person of Jesus Christ, in whom the God who is love became a human person and lived out perfectly the self-giving love to which all of us are called.

Having mentioned this call, the centrality of love for humanity according to the Christian story should now be clear. Not only is humanity created out of love. Given a special place in all creation, as created in the image of God (imago Dei), humanity is specially equipped to participate in the love that characterizes God’s very being, which spills out in all creation, and which characterizes the ultimate destiny to which humanity is called. That is why the greatest commandment is to love God and to love others (see Matt. 22:37–39; Mark 12:29–31; Luke 10:27). This is not some externally imposed obligation placed on humanity. It is rather an invitation for us to live the way we were created to live; in other words, it is a call to be who we are as imago Dei. It is also a foretaste of the fullness of life, which is complete loving union with God.

The Irish bishops rightly claim that all of Christian morality follows from these claims. Christian morality is not some arbitrary set of obligations imposed on people to keep them from having too much fun. Rather, genuine moral rules are simply aids for humanity in living the most loving lives. In doing so, people live lives that conform to how they were built, so to speak, and thus experience true fulfillment and happiness. This is true of all inner-worldly activities, and not simply one’s religious activities. The Irish bishops state plainly how it is true with regard to sexuality: “The Church’s whole moral teaching about sex is above all the application to sexuality of God’s greatest commandment to charity [i.e., love].”Ibid., 24. The question to ask ourselves in any moral issue is how to live most genuinely loving lives. In doing so we are not merely obeying God’s commandments, though we are doing that too; we are actually living in accordance with the reality of things, including our own natures, the point of all creation, our ultimate destiny, and even the very essence of God’s own being.

Of course the rub, if you will, is determining what counts as genuinely loving. Much disagreement on particular moral issues occurs, not between opposing big-picture schools of thought like Lucretius vs. the Irish bishops, but between those who share, say, the view of the Irish bishops and yet debate whether or not a particular act (e.g., sex before marriage) constitutes an act of genuine self-giving love. In other words, common vision on the answers to big-picture questions does not guarantee common vision on whether or not particular activities are expressions of those big-picture beliefs. Nonetheless, commonality on such big-picture questions is still hugely significant. It provides people with a set of common beliefs to appeal to in determining whether a particular act is virtuous or not. In other words, if the Irish bishops are making an argument against sex outside of marriage, they need to know whether their audience includes people like Lucretius who do not accept the tenets of the Christian story, or whether it includes other Christians who do accept that story but disagree on how those big-picture claims are specified in the particular case at hand. There are different sources of disagreement at work in those two audiences.

Since we are now veering too close to the next section’s more analytic examination of how different big-picture beliefs matter in shaping one’s position on moral issues, let us first examine how the Christian story plays out with regard to sexuality. Rather than simply asking what constitutes genuinely loving sex, let us look more specifically at the Christian story of salvation history in order to see how sex fits into it. The three basic movements of Christian salvation history are creation, sin, redemption.

What do Christians believe about creation? As noted above God, who is love, created all things out of love, and created humanity in God’s own image for a special destiny of friendship with God. It is worth pausing to note how radical this claim is. The God who is the origin of the entire universe is not simply a transcendent and powerful god in a distant and impersonal sense. God is indeed powerful and transcendent, but also immanent and personal. The union to which God invites all people is deeply interpersonal and self-giving. In fact, many great Christian thinkers echoing Jesus’s words to his disciples (John 15:15: “I call you friends”) have described the union with God (and to others in God) to which all are called as friendship. Hence when people live lives of personal, self-giving love they are living according to their created purpose.

What has this to do with sex? First of all, sexuality is a created part of our nature as human persons. Though certain erroneous interpretations of the book of Genesis have understood sex to enter the picture only after humanity’s sin in Genesis 3, a closer look reveals that sex and marriage are present in humanity before sin (Gen. 2:24). Therefore, sex comes from God, and is good and beautiful. There is no reason to have shame with regard to nakedness and sexuality in themselves. Second, given that sex is a divinely created capacity given to humanity, it should be no surprise that its purpose is to express self-giving love. Sexual intercourse is a powerfully intimate expression of union in self-giving love, where two become “one flesh” (Gen. 2:24), and where humanity participates in God’s own loving creativity by heeding the call to “be fertile and multiply” (Gen. 1:28). When sex is an expression of this deeply personal, self-giving love for which we were created, then it is virtuous.

Of course, this is not the whole of the Christian story. As a reading of Genesis 3 reveals, and as will be examined in far more detail in chapter 12, sin enters the picture contrary to God’s plan. Despite being created for self-giving love, and being given the assistance to live lives of such love, which are indeed most fulfilling and satisfying, humanity lives not out of self-giving love but rather for ourselves. Out of pride we decide that we, not God, know what is truly best and life-giving for us. And so we turn away from the fullness of life that is offered to us. This is sin.

How is sin manifest in human sexuality? Any expression of sexuality that is not an occasion of personal self-giving love is a manifestation of human sinfulness. The sad reality of sin is seen in gender discrimination, dominance, manipulation, shame about sexuality, and any occasion where we do, intend, or desire sexual acts in a manner that uses other people for ourselves in defiance of the self-giving love to which we are all called, in our sex lives and beyond. When sex is used in this manner, the partners are warping sex into something other than the expression of fully self-giving love that it is created to express.

Thankfully, sin is not the end of the Christian story. Christians believe that all of human history is the story of God’s reconciliation of humanity to himself. God initiates a restoration of right relationship. God does so through the law and the prophets of the Old Testament, through the ongoing presence of the Holy Spirit in the Church, and most perfectly in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ (discussed in chapter 14). In short, God’s help (or “grace”) helps to heal humanity in our sinfulness so that we can live the lives of self-giving love in communion with God and others that we were destined to live. This redemption occurs in this life, but it is only complete in the next, when the fullness of life in union with God can be experienced completely. The scriptures describe humanity’s ultimate destiny as coming “to share in the divine nature, after escaping from the corruption that is in the world because of evil desire” (2 Pet. 1:4). That divine nature is of course interpersonal communion in self-giving love.

What does this have to do with sexuality? Though our sinfulness is quite evident in how we express our sexuality, with God’s help it is indeed possible that the sexual expressions of our sinfulness—discrimination, domination, manipulation, and selfishness—can be overcome. In other words, we can be healed so that our sexuality can be an expression of the self-giving interpersonal love that it was meant to be. Though redemption is complete only in the next life, it is truly inaugurated in this life; hence in our sexuality, which is proper to this life, we can indeed know the transformation of redemption.

It should be clear at this point how radically different both the big-picture beliefs of the Irish bishops, and their more particular rules concerning sex, are from those of Lucretius. What is most important for this chapter is recognizing how each vision of the way things are concerning big-picture beliefs shapes the different specific rules they have concerning sexuality. It is not the case that big-picture beliefs are irrelevant for determining how to virtuously go about innerworldly activities. Explaining more precisely how and why this is so is the purpose of the second section of this chapter.

Much as chapter 1 started with the Ring of Gyges story in order to distinguish a morality of happiness from a morality of obligation, this second half of the book begins with a contrast between Lucretius’s and the Irish bishops’ understanding of sex in the context of their big-picture beliefs. The goal here is to provide an example of how those beliefs matters in shaping how we do innerworldly activities. The purpose of this next section of the chapter is to examine in more detail exactly how and why those beliefs matter, a task that will only be truly complete by the end of chapter 16. While the task of the first half of the book was to look at the virtues—in particular the cardinal virtues—as a way both to expand the scope of discussions of morality beyond acts to persons, intentions, and desires, and to shift the emphasis of such discussions to happiness over obligation, this second half seeks to better understand the content of happiness through the lens of the Christian faith, and particularly the theological virtues. As noted at the outset of this chapter, it is a legitimate criticism to ask why this analysis does not follow chapter 2 and precede the discussion of cardinal virtues. But the cardinal virtues are examined first in this book to demonstrate how discussion of them invites— no, demands—attention to one’s big-picture beliefs. Discussion of religious faith, or some such big-picture beliefs, far from being plopped on top of one’s understanding of the cardinal virtues, shapes and in turn is shaped by one’s practice of those virtues. This section will demonstrate how.

Two Errors on the Relation of Big-Picture Beliefs to Innerworldly Activities

It may help to identify two views on the moral importance of big-picture beliefs which this section will argue against. The first view grants that things like belief in God and an afterlife matter in how we act morally in this world. After all, people of religious faith such as Christians believe in a God who rewards the good and punishes the evil. In the next life, in particular, heaven or hell awaits each person based upon his or her actions. So believers presumably try and alter their behavior on earth in light of that impending judgment.

Though this is indeed an example of how big-picture beliefs shape how we do innerworldly activities, it is not the view espoused here. Not that the realities of God’s judgment, or heaven or hell, are denied here; they are not. But on this view, the relationship between our actions and our final destiny is understood poorly. Our actions here in this life are only extrinsically related to our destiny in the next. It is as if God arbitrarily decides on a set of actions that must be performed here in order for us to get a reward later. Yet on this view there is no recognition that what God commands in this life is intrinsically related to our final destiny. Virtuous activity shapes us into the sorts of persons we will fully become (in ways that explode our imagination) in the next life, where there is fullness of life. Note that the above presentation of the Irish bishops’ summation of Christianity and the impact of those beliefs on sexuality never once mentioned heaven or hell. Clearly it is not because they deny heaven or hell. Rather it is because they have a more intrinsic view of the relationship between Christian faith and having sex. Who God is, and how God made us to live, are prior to (and in fact the basis of) whatever ultimate destiny we will enjoy or suffer. In other words, the life of self-giving love and all its demands, to which God calls us in this life, is a foretaste of, an initial participation in, that fullness of life with which God rewards people in eternity. This point is explained in greater detail in chapter 13. It suffices here to note that the morality-of-obligation view, whereby our eternal destiny shapes our behavior simply because of the reward or punishment associated with our actions in this life, is not endorsed here. Though there is certainly a connection between how we live this life and our eternal destinies, the connection is stronger and more beautiful than supposed in this simplistic model. From a morality-of-happiness perspective, living the virtuous life here is constitutive of, and not simply an extrinsic means to, the happiness offered by God in eternal life.

A second target of this section is the mistaken view that only people of religious faith have big-picture beliefs that shape their actions on earth. After all, it seems, if you do not believe in God or judgment in an afterlife, then there is nothing there to shape how you act in this life! Hopefully the error of this view is obvious after the brief look at Lucretius’s thought. Clearly Lucretius held beliefs about the nonexistence of God, human destiny (or lack thereof) after death, and the relationship among human persons in general. They are certainly not the beliefs held by Christians. But they are big-picture beliefs nonetheless. And they clearly shaped his understanding of how to live a good, virtuous life, as when he counsels people not to fear death, and to seek a life of enjoyment based on pleasurable sensations, and to enjoy sex without the trappings of romantic love. In the descriptive senses of the terms, Lucretius has beliefs, and he has a morality shaped by them. The question is not whether such beliefs are present. The real question is whether or not they are true, and so how accurately they shape one’s moral practices.

Actions, Practices, and Big-Picture Beliefs

This book focuses on virtues rather than simply external acts because of the way that virtues, as habits with corresponding intentionality and desires, constitute changes in a person. A virtuous person—say, a temperate person— does not simply perform temperate acts; she is a temperate person. The main reason that she consistently performs temperate acts has everything to do with intentionality. She sees things correctly concerning sensual pleasures, and intends to and desires to act in accordance with that accurate grasp of sensual pleasures. So she acts well consistently, for the right reasons, and with pleasure and promptness, largely because she has an accurate grasp of the way things are and purposely acts—even desires—accordingly. In fact, she knows that acting so is constitutive of genuine human happiness.

Thus the virtuous person sees rightly the goals to be pursued, and pursues them. Of course goals, or intentions, exist on a variety of levels. Some are very immediate and short term. Others are more central to a whole life and longer term. Recall the discussion in chapter 2 of how the particular constellation of goals in a persons’ life, and their relative importance, is what makes up a person’s character. It is what makes him who he is. Furthermore, this constellation can be imagined as a sort of triangle, since one’s higher goals not only take precedence over lower goals, but also shape the manner in which they are done.

We are now on the cusp of a richer understanding of how big-picture beliefs shape our innerworldly activities. The first half of this book argued that the virtuous life leads to genuine human happiness, or flourishing. But the content of happiness, if you will, is based upon one’s big-picture beliefs. Recall how differently Lucretius and the Irish bishops see what constitutes happiness, and how they accordingly pursue innerworldly activities like sex in contrasting manners. Since our ultimate end—or what we are all about—shapes how more proximate goals or intentions are understood and pursued in our lives, it stands to reason that our big-picture beliefs, which are determinative of our ultimate end, shape how we understand the point or meaning of innerworldly practices, and thus our understanding of how to do them well. Recall from chapter 2 how our ultimate goal, and how it shapes all other goals, is what establishes our character. Now it should be clearer why this is so. For instance, if the Irish bishops are correct that God is love, that creation is a divine act of love, and that life in love is itself participation in the divine nature (2 Pet. 1:4), in the life of God who is love, then sex is most accurately understood as having a purpose in that overall plan. Therefore it is done well (virtuously) to the extent that it is an expression of the self-giving love that constitutes our ultimate end and complete happiness.

Most basically, we can say that our big-picture beliefs concerning the ultimate purpose or goal in life shape how we do things in this life, which are presumably understood as parts of the path to that goal. As noted above, this can be understood in a manner whereby the relation between the ultimate goal sought and the path to that goal are only extrinsically related. In other words, though the innerworldly activities are done for the sake of some further end (like reward in heaven), what constitutes the manner of doing those activities well is not shaped by the nature of the final end. Of course, there is still a vision of the final end operative here; in this case, God is an arbitrary lawgiver who demands and rewards obedience. If that is the most accurate and complete understanding of God we have, living that way makes sense. Yet the Irish bishops offer an example of doing innerworldly activities for the sake of one’s final end of union with God, in a manner whereby the very shape of those activities is reflective of who God is, what we are called to be, and a taste of our final goal, In other words, they have a morality-of-happiness perspective in which following the rules is constitutive of, and not simply an extrinsically related path to, full human happiness.

The introduction of the term practice will help illustrate the formative impact of big-picture beliefs on innerworldly activities, and also enable us to see how the reverse is also true. Simply put, a practice is a way of doing something. It could be something simple, like changing a tire, or something rather complex, like dating or waging war. Since we human persons act intentionally, the way we go about doing things is only properly understood if we look at not only what we do but also why we do it. Furthermore, more complex and interesting practices include many levels of goals. We have more immediate goals, and more far-reaching goals. Though debates about, say, waging war may focus on more immediate actions such a dropping an atomic bomb, only a broader understanding of how that action is situated in the practice of waging war, and what the more far-reaching goals of war making are, will enable us to adequately analyze the particular action under examination. And since our more far-reaching goals are reflective of our big-picture beliefs in the manner described above, any thorough analysis of a practice like waging war will attend to those big-picture beliefs.

This is why it is important to analyze moral issues like sexuality or waging war by looking at how these innerworldly activities are practices. It makes us attentive to both immediate and more far-reaching goals. It enables us to understand the impact of one’s community on those goals. And it enables us to see what big-picture beliefs must be held—consciously or unconsciously— by the participants in order to live out that sort of practice. For instance, if we spoke to Lucretius or had a friend who lived out sexuality in the manner recommended by him, then we could say, “For you to practice sexuality in this way means you must believe ______.” Similarly, we could say to someone who practiced sex in the manner described by the Irish bishops, “For you to practice sexuality in this way means you must believe ______.” Analysis of how innerworldly activities are practiced is only complete with attention to the specific big-picture beliefs that underlie and shape the practice.

There is another important consequence of this understanding of the relationship between big-picture beliefs and our practices of innerworldly activities. Though our practices are indeed reflective of the big-picture beliefs we hold, it is also the case that our practices are formative of those beliefs. People do not first come to some fully developed understanding of God and ultimate happiness and then act accordingly in the world. Instead, people are shaped by those around them (families, churches, etc.) to act in the world in a certain way, which then propels them toward big-picture beliefs that correspond to those practices. Thus, our practices not only reflect, but also help form, our big-picture beliefs. This claim leads us directly to the virtue faith, which is the topic for the next chapter.

The purpose of this chapter has been to exemplify and explain how big-picture beliefs matter in determining how to most virtuously practice innerworldly activities. Exactly what ramifications this has for the source and content of the cardinal virtues—which concern innerworldly activities—is spelled out in chapter 16, after a more thorough engagement with other central features of the Christian story and the three theological virtues of faith, hope, and love. Given the importance of big-picture beliefs for how we practice innerworldly activities, the problem with the two errors mentioned at the beginning of this chapter (as opposed to this section) should now be clearer.

One of those errors is the view that since innerworldly activities are practiced by people whatever their big-picture beliefs, then those beliefs must not matter for innerworldly practices. Demonstrating why this view is false has been the primary task of this chapter. In fact, the structure of this book could be mistakenly taken to imply that innerworldly activities may be practiced without any relation to big-picture beliefs. This is not true. It is true that people of very different big-picture beliefs all practice some vision of the cardinal virtues. At times what they do may even be quite similar. But at times what is understood to constitute the content of a cardinal virtue is quite different, and the impact of different big-picture beliefs on how innerworldly activities are practiced helps explain many such differences. We may see, for instance, that debate about the use of the atomic bomb entails difference over what constitutes proper relations between human persons. These differences may in turn reflect different big-picture beliefs.

But we should avoid letting an emphasis on this point lead us to fall into the other error mentioned at the outset of this chapter. It is not the case that all disagreements over innerworldly practices are simply about differences in big-picture beliefs. Not every debate over waging war or sexuality is simply a theological debate. The fact that these practices concern innerworldly activities does mean the activity can in principle be examined with integrity free of reference to supernatural destiny. Much can be learned and debated without further reference to big-picture beliefs. Indeed, much debate occurs between people who hold similar theological commitments, and yet disagree over how or whether an innerworldly practice can best reflect those commitments. We saw this clearly with the U.S. bishops’ claim that both nonviolent resistance and just-war theory have been understood to be expressions of Christian justice. However, though not all debate is ultimately about rival big-picture claims, failing to attend to how such claims shape our innerworldly practices is always problematic. The following chapter explores the virtue of faith whereby people hold their big-picture beliefs.

1. The outset of this chapter mentions two errors that people are prone to when addressing the importance of big-picture beliefs. What are they? According to the conclusion of the chapter, why are both wrong?

2. Describe three big-picture beliefs held by Lucretius. Explain how they shape the way he says sex is practiced virtuously.

3. How do the Irish bishops summarize the Christian story? Be sure to describe both the prominent role of love in that story, and the three movements of salvation history.

4. Give two rules for sexuality that the Irish bishops would endorse, and show how they flow from their big-picture beliefs.

5. The beginning of section two describes two errors (different from those at the outset of the chapter) on how big-picture beliefs might be said to shape our practices. What are they? Why does this chapter claim each is wrong?

6. What is a practice? Explain how human practices are reflective of the fact that we act intentionally for goals on a host of different levels.

7. Explain why big-picture beliefs shape our innerworldly practices, being sure to use the terms (in whatever order): final end, intention, virtue, happiness, the way things are.

atomism, creation, sin, redemption, practice

1. Give some examples of big-picture beliefs beyond those mentioned here. How would you define a big-picture, or ultimate, belief?

2. Take some hotly contested ethical issue, and try to determine the sources of disagreement between two particular positions. Are they at the level of big-picture beliefs or not? If so how? If not, what is the source of disagreement?

3. Think of your own practices in some area, such as dating. Name several rules you live by in this area, and try to identify what you think the activity means by saying, “For me to (for instance) date this way, I must think dating means _____.” Then note to what extent your understanding of the activity (such as dating) is shaped by and reflective of your big-picture beliefs.

A helpful collection of texts from over two thousand years of great thinkers on the question of what constitutes the good life is Charles Guignon’s The Good Life. A more difficult and thorough treatment of particularly classical ethics and some of their concomitant big-picture beliefs is Julia Annas’s The Morality of Happiness. There are many basic overviews of the Christian story. The Catechism of the Catholic Church is lengthy and dry but comprehensive. I have also found C. S. Lewis’s Mere Christianity and Robert Barron’s The Strangest Way to be very helpful on this topic. Basic summations of the story of salvation history can be found directly in scripture, such as in Acts 2 and 6. St. Augustine offers long and short versions in his manual On Catechizing the Unlearned. Genesis 1–3 seems invaluable for presenting basic Christian big-picture beliefs. Finally, Pope Benedict XVI’s Deus Caritas Est offers a synopsis of love as central to the Christian story, as does the Irish bishops’ Love Is for Life, relied on heavily in this chapter.